((Credits to Leah for originally roleplaying some of this scene with me.))
The road was long and clean, as it usually was. Yet the clouds were plump and gray, promising rain. Beautiful, the day. He stepped out from the edge of the small town, staring out at the vehicles on the highway passing beside it. The ride from his city had been but a short two hours. And two hours from his former home, he would finally accomplish his best, last act.
The first car flew by, at 70 miles an hour, and he cursed his hesitance. He was not excited by the thought of harming another by his life, but he had so many times. The stranger would feel awful, he was certain. But perhaps someone would convince him that they were only granting a wish, a great wish. Providing transportation to elsewhere, as a vehicle usually did.
He should have driven himself. It would have saved his conscience from knowing what he was doing to somebody else. But it was a little late now.
Another vehicle was approaching. He would have to be fast. He wasn't good at being fast. He would have to try, though.
His heart was racing, in tune with this vehicle's speed, and he watched as it came closer. He had but a short window between the driver's sight of him and his speed. And even if he saw... 65 miles, perhaps he would just... he didn't want to break much of theirs...
And so the next step came easily, and he felt lightheaded as he approached the lane's center from its side, feet off gravel onto cracking asphalt; thunder wasn't sounding, but he saw lightning above him. He anticipated the pain and loss as the vehicle approached, but soft, quick thunder sounded, the shriek of a woman, and then,
the loud wwshhhhhhhhhhhh of the car, as its tires sped on past him. He hit the asphalt, toppled by someone nearly half his size, caramel hair on his face, and blueangryfrightened eyes, unclear in his dizzied head. And he hardly heard, as she shouted, the rain of her tears upon his face in the other lane, as they lay, a mess on the other side of a dotted yellow line.
"Whatthehellwereyoudoing,myGod,Damir,myGod,please..."
She squeezed him, a human vice of slender, strong arms, and thunder sounded in the distance and thunder sounded and three miles away, someone was speeding, speeding down toward them...
"Please, please, Damir, why, please... don't..."
And rain from the sky, not salty, started to drip down on the living and dead below them, dripping upon the two in the road. So the man in his vehicle, coming home from a Saturday's work began to rush, wanting home, longing for the company of his family.
He slowly tried to take her from him, but she held tighter; he had never known her strength until now. And he took her back for a moment, before peeling her as gently as possible from him, and she was now beside him. He didn't want her here, for this, no, he couldn't...
And the man in his car turned on his windshield wipers as he approached the town he lived in.
"No, Damir," she whispered, grasping his arm.
And the man approached, at a steady 67, hurrying, knowing the exit's approach, but still pressing the gas, 68, 69, 70 miles per hour...
And the young man turned his aching head, his ears picking up the scrape of rubber against wet ground, and he took the girl as she had just taken him, shoving both toward an edge, a tornado of man and woman twisting into a deep ditch as a car sped just past them, narrowly avoiding the sweep of tragic, whirling wind.
The couple lay bruised and scraped and coated with new mud, both hearts racing, both heartbeats a realization. In their fall, the woman's ring was coated with mud, her arms and knuckles scraped by pavement and sharp grasses. Both were aching, though some pains were sharp, as they lay, poured on by rainwater, unable to catch their breath. Something was broken, but each was alive.
"Don't ever..." she barely rasped, closing her eyes as she winced, as tears fell anew with the rain.
"I won't..." he replied, tasting saltwater and blood from something cut.
Blotches of purple appeared on their limbs, and one held the other, the other held one, and the two felt their pounding heads and racing hearts pumping blood, and they closed their eyes, comforted by darkness and warmth, waiting.
The road was long and clean, as it usually was. Yet the clouds were plump and gray, promising rain. Beautiful, the day. He stepped out from the edge of the small town, staring out at the vehicles on the highway passing beside it. The ride from his city had been but a short two hours. And two hours from his former home, he would finally accomplish his best, last act.
The first car flew by, at 70 miles an hour, and he cursed his hesitance. He was not excited by the thought of harming another by his life, but he had so many times. The stranger would feel awful, he was certain. But perhaps someone would convince him that they were only granting a wish, a great wish. Providing transportation to elsewhere, as a vehicle usually did.
He should have driven himself. It would have saved his conscience from knowing what he was doing to somebody else. But it was a little late now.
Another vehicle was approaching. He would have to be fast. He wasn't good at being fast. He would have to try, though.
His heart was racing, in tune with this vehicle's speed, and he watched as it came closer. He had but a short window between the driver's sight of him and his speed. And even if he saw... 65 miles, perhaps he would just... he didn't want to break much of theirs...
And so the next step came easily, and he felt lightheaded as he approached the lane's center from its side, feet off gravel onto cracking asphalt; thunder wasn't sounding, but he saw lightning above him. He anticipated the pain and loss as the vehicle approached, but soft, quick thunder sounded, the shriek of a woman, and then,
the loud wwshhhhhhhhhhhh of the car, as its tires sped on past him. He hit the asphalt, toppled by someone nearly half his size, caramel hair on his face, and blueangryfrightened eyes, unclear in his dizzied head. And he hardly heard, as she shouted, the rain of her tears upon his face in the other lane, as they lay, a mess on the other side of a dotted yellow line.
"Whatthehellwereyoudoing,myGod,Damir,myGod,please..."
She squeezed him, a human vice of slender, strong arms, and thunder sounded in the distance and thunder sounded and three miles away, someone was speeding, speeding down toward them...
"Please, please, Damir, why, please... don't..."
And rain from the sky, not salty, started to drip down on the living and dead below them, dripping upon the two in the road. So the man in his vehicle, coming home from a Saturday's work began to rush, wanting home, longing for the company of his family.
He slowly tried to take her from him, but she held tighter; he had never known her strength until now. And he took her back for a moment, before peeling her as gently as possible from him, and she was now beside him. He didn't want her here, for this, no, he couldn't...
And the man in his car turned on his windshield wipers as he approached the town he lived in.
"No, Damir," she whispered, grasping his arm.
And the man approached, at a steady 67, hurrying, knowing the exit's approach, but still pressing the gas, 68, 69, 70 miles per hour...
And the young man turned his aching head, his ears picking up the scrape of rubber against wet ground, and he took the girl as she had just taken him, shoving both toward an edge, a tornado of man and woman twisting into a deep ditch as a car sped just past them, narrowly avoiding the sweep of tragic, whirling wind.
The couple lay bruised and scraped and coated with new mud, both hearts racing, both heartbeats a realization. In their fall, the woman's ring was coated with mud, her arms and knuckles scraped by pavement and sharp grasses. Both were aching, though some pains were sharp, as they lay, poured on by rainwater, unable to catch their breath. Something was broken, but each was alive.
"Don't ever..." she barely rasped, closing her eyes as she winced, as tears fell anew with the rain.
"I won't..." he replied, tasting saltwater and blood from something cut.
Blotches of purple appeared on their limbs, and one held the other, the other held one, and the two felt their pounding heads and racing hearts pumping blood, and they closed their eyes, comforted by darkness and warmth, waiting.
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